It Was A Plane Ride From LAX to O'Hare
by sinandmisery
Summary: After a breakup, Quinn does the only thing she can think of: she goes to Rachel.  Future Fic. Written before we knew Quinn was going to Yale.


_**IT WAS A PLANE RIDE FROM LAX TO O'HARE**_

_August 2012_

"You know it's not like we're never going to see each other again," Rachel says, clinging to Quinn like she doesn't even believe the words coming out of her own mouth. Her head is tucked into the crook of Quinn's neck, her warm breath dancing over Quinn's clavicles teasingly.

Since the end of junior year, the two had grown closer, quickly moving from bitter enemies to inseparable best of friends. When it had come out (no pun intended) that Sam was gay, Rachel was there for Quinn just like she had been when the truth came out about Puck being Beth's father. But this time Quinn didn't push her away. She clung to her former enemy for inexplicable reasons; a year later and she still hadn't figured out why. It wasn't like she was that broken up over Sam, he was strictly a pawn in a power play. Whatever her motivation, Quinn was glad for it because it didn't take long before she was having a hard time remembering why she hated Rachel in the first place.

"I know," Quinn finally said, pulling Rachel impossibly closer. She could feel Rachel trembling and tensing and she knew without doubt that the other girl was fighting valiantly to keep from crying. Quinn caressed Rachel's back soothingly, knowing she wouldn't be able to hold back her own tears if the other girl started crying. "We'll see each other at fall break. And then winter break. Spring break. We'll both be home for the summer."

"What if I can't come home?" Rachel questioned, pulling back slightly to look up at Quinn. "What if there's a role or something and I have to stay?"

Rachel's voice was panicked but Quinn just smiled and brought a hand up to cup Rachel's cheek. "Then I'll come to New York," she said without a moment's hesitation and it was apparently enough to calm Rachel's nerves because she immediately resumed snuggling against Quinn's chest.

"I really don't want you to leave tomorrow."

"I know, Rach," Quinn sighed, stroking Rachel's hair. "I don't want to leave either."

They stood like that for what was quite possibly hours. Quinn had lost count, but when she started to lose feeling in her feet, she maneuvered them to Rachel's bed. Rachel lay astride Quinn, their lower halves tangled together as she played with the ends of Quinn's loose curls. Quinn's own fingers were tangled in Rachel's hair, gently massaging her scalp. She was going to miss the intimacy of their friendship, that was certain, but the ache in her chest was for a completely different reason.

In a perfect world, she would turn her head to the side and tip her chin to claim Rachel's lips as her own. She would promise Rachel the world - the moon, sun, and stars, too, if she wanted them - and their gentle kisses would evolve into even gentler touches until their naked bodies were melded together as one and hushed vows of _forever_ would fall from their lips. They'd lay together until morning, when Rachel would drive her to the airport, kiss her goodbye, and then stand at security, watching until she couldn't see Quinn anymore. Quinn would call her from the gate, but they wouldn't really talk at all until she had to board when they'd whisper _I love you _and Quinn would promise to call the instant she landed.

It wasn't a perfect world, though - Quinn had Puck and Rachel had Finn - so Quinn just held Rachel and stared at the ceiling, ignoring her phone when Puck called, and then again when Santana and Mercedes called back to back.

_March 2015_

Quinn should have seen it coming. Puck had calmed down a lot since high school, but he was still, and would probably always be, _Puck_, so in all honesty, she was surprised. He'd didn't take notice of things like feelings, but she'd underestimated him or her skills when it came to keeping things under wraps.

When he finally confronted her, she felt bad even though he said it was okay; that he understood. She felt like a cheater, even though she'd never acted on the ever-present feelings she had for Rachel (Not even last summer when Finn dumped Rachel for some ditzy redhead at Youngstown State and Quinn had flown cross-country to console her. They'd been slightly tipsy - okay, _really_ drunk - and Rachel had leaned in, but Quinn smelled the vodka and turned, kissing Rachel's cheek instead. She wanted Rachel, but not like that.), but Quinn was constantly emotionally unavailable, so it was sort of like she was. She couldn't really blame him for leaving.

As soon as he left, she picked up her phone, not surprised to find herself calling Rachel before she even realized what she was doing. Rachel was always the first person she thought of to call when something big happened (and okay, maybe she wasn't as subtle as she thought she was), and this was no exception. When she got voicemail instantly, she checked her watch and did a quick calculation of the time difference between Chicago and LA, realizing Rachel was probably in dress rehearsal. Quinn smiled when she thought of the phone call she'd received when Rachel had been cast as Elphaba in the national touring cast of _Wicked_. Between the simultaneous rambling, hyperventilating, and squealing, Quinn had barely been able to decipher anything but the word _Wicked_, but she knew exactly what was going on because Rachel had her big call back earlier and suddenly Quinn was joining in with the rambling, hyperventilating, and squealing. The role had required Rachel to take an academic hiatus, and later that night, when Rachel shared her PowerPoint presentation on the pros and cons of such an action over iChat, Quinn had completely tuned her out. She knew without question that Rachel was taking the role.

Pulling a bag from her closet and haphazardly tossing clothes into it, Quinn did the only thing she could think of. She went to Chicago.

"Cadillac Palace, please," Quinn told the driver as soon as she got in the taxi. She was out of breath, having run through O'Hare as quickly as possible without attracting the attention of airport security, and she leaned her head back on the seat, trying to get her breathing under control. She glanced at her watch, tapping her foot anxiously as she waited for the driver to navigate Chicago traffic. She had an hour and a half before the show started and she prayed to a god she wasn't sure existed that the drive would get her there in time. As she waited to board her plane at LAX, she had called the theatre and managed to get a last minute VIP ticket. When the ticketing agent had told her the total, she cursed under her breath and gave her the credit card number, thankful her father hadn't revoked the college expenses fund when he kicked her out of the house.

Lost in her own thoughts, she barely registered when the driver came to a stop in front of the theatre, 45 minutes ahead of schedule.

"Thank you," she said, handing him her card to cover the fare. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"No problem little lady." He paused, smiling at her. "I hope it works out."

"What... how did you know?" She asked, taking her card back.

"Been a driver for almost 20 years. You pick up on things," he said with a wink before heading back out into traffic, leaving Quinn standing on the curb in a daze.

Quinn had to remind herself to close her mouth as she watched Rachel move across the stage, commanding nothing short of complete attention from the audience. Even in high school, when she made fun of Rachel, she knew the girl was going to be a star, and that quality had only intensified during her time at Julliard. Even so, she couldn't believe she was watching Rachel on stage, living out her lifelong dream. Just before intermission, Rachel had caught sight of her in the front row and her eyes widened, focusing her gaze Quinn and managing to not miss a cue.

Seconds after the curtain dropped, a theatre employee stepped in front of her. "Miss Fabray?" he asked, and Quinn's eyes snapped up from the picture of Rachel in the program that she'd been studying.

"Yes?"

"Miss Berry said she would like to see you backstage. If you would please follow me," he said quietly and as Quinn stood up to follow him, she didn't miss the shock and awe on the faces of the children sitting closest to her.

The employee - she wasn't sure of his name, there was no name tag - rapped lightly on Rachel's dressing room door. "Miss Berry? I have Miss Fabray with me," he called.

Rachel's door flew open and Quinn felt herself pulled into a crushing embrace. She felt the familiar tension in her stomach that flared up whenever she was in close proximity to Rachel.

"Thank you," Rachel said to the young man, pulling Quinn inside and closing the door.

"Quinn! What are you doing here? You're not supposed to be here 'til next week. Right? Oh my god, did I get the dates confused?" Rachel reached for her BlackBerry to check the calendar.

Quinn smiled, placing a hand on Rachel's to stop her movement, and quirked an eyebrow. "Not happy to see me?"

"Elated," Rachel said, pulling her into another hug. "Ecstatic. Overjoyed. Thrilled. Rapturous."

"Okay. Okay. I think you've proven that you've committed Roget's Thesaurus to memory. In its entirety," Quinn said, laughing and hugging Rachel just as tight.

"Seriously, though. I'm over the moon that you're here. I just wasn't expecting you right now. Is everything okay?"

"We'll talk about it after the show," Quinn told her, smiling as she moved to take a seat on the couch in Rachel's dressing room.

"Quinn..."

"I'm fine, Rach." Quinn reached over and squeezed one of Rachel's green hands gently. "I just needed to see you."

Rachel looked skeptical but nodded. "Okay."

"So can I buy you dinner after the show? Is it acceptable for a big theatre star like yourself to be seen with a lowly undergrad?" Quinn teased.

"You are not just a lowly undergrad, Quinn Fabray. Anyway, I am an undergrad, too; I'm just on sabbatical."

"For good reason. You are incredible out there, Rachel. Seriously. I knew you were talented but you're blowing everyone away out there." Rachel averted her eyes and if it weren't for the green makeup, Quinn would have sworn she was blushing. "Is the great and mighty Rachel Berry unable to accept the praise she, and I quote, so rightly deserves?"

"5 minutes, Miss Berry," a voice called from outside the small room.

"It just means a lot from you, Quinn." Rachel cupped Quinn's face gently, brushing her thumb over her cheekbone, unaware of the reactions she was eliciting from Quinn.

Quinn closed her eyes, leaning into the touch before turning her head and kissing Rachel's palm. "I only say it 'cause it's true."

They both smiled brightly and Rachel pressed her lips to Quinn's cheek before standing. "I'll have Evan come find you again after the show; we can leave together."

"Kick some ass out there, Berry."

Quinn sat on Rachel's couch, watching as she removed the majority of the green makeup spread over her skin. She had changed into a pair of yoga pants and a tank top, her hair tied up in a loose bun on top of her head, and Quinn stared, enraptured at the way Rachel's muscles moved. Rachel's shoulders were strong - sinewy but not bulky - and her shoulder blades played underneath tan skin, teasing Quinn relentlessly. She remembers quite vividly how said muscles and shoulder blades felt beneath her hands as she'd massaged Rachel's back during Operation: Help Rachel Get Over Finn. It had been a daunting task, being so close to a topless Rachel, straddling her ass, and yet unable to explore like she wanted to. Rachel's content moans hadn't helped the issue, either.

"Ugh, this is so much easier in the shower," Rachel said, tossing the used makeup remover pads into the wastebasket. It was mostly gone, only clinging to Rachel's skin in the hard to reach places like behind her ears.

"So let's go home and you can shower before we go out."

"Perfect idea," Rachel said as she picked up her bag and moved to the couch, holding her hand out to Quinn. "Ready?"

"Yeah." Quinn picked up her bag as well, slipping her hand into Rachel's, and they walked out the back door into the humid night air.

"I normally walk home," Rachel said, turning to Quinn. "It's about a mile, but it lets me clear my head. Is that okay?"

"Of course," Quinn replied. "It's a nice night."

"It is. I'm really glad you're here, Quinn."

"Me too, Rach."

They walked in a comfortable silence for a few blocks, enjoying each other's company. For as much as Rachel liked to talk, a fair bit of their time spent together was in silence, not always needing their words to enjoy one another's company.

"Did you wanna talk now? Or..."

"Puck broke up with me," Quinn said simply.

Rachel stopped walking, effectively stopping Quinn as well since they were still holding hands. "What? When?"

"This morning."

"Wait... what? He broke up with you this morning?"

"Yeah. I... I dunno, Rach, I didn't really think about it," Quinn said, feeling suddenly embarrassed. Maybe Rachel thought she was crazy.

"How long before you were on a plane?"

"As soon as I could after he left. I told you I needed to see you. I don't even know what I packed."

Rachel shook her head and laughed as she pulled Quinn into a hug. "Are you okay?"

Quinn nodded. "It was kind of expected, Rach. He's Puck. I'm surprised we lasted as long as we did."

"True," Rachel said as she pulled away and started walking again, lacing her fingers with Quinn's again. "He didn't cheat on you, did he? I love Noah and all, but I will make him regret it if he did. I'm a black belt in taekwondo, you know."

"I know," Quinn laughed, nudging Rachel with her shoulder.

"Did he?"

"No. He's grown up a lot in the past few years. There's someone else, but he told me he wanted to 'do it right,'" the lie slipped from her tongue easily, and she felt uncomfortable for throwing him under the bus, but it wasn't like she could tell the truth.

"I'm glad," Rachel said. "Noah's a nice guy, underneath all that posturing. Are you sure you're okay, though?"

"It hurts a little, three years is a long time, but..." Quinn trailed off, not wanting to say _but I've been in love with you for four years_.

"But what?"

Quinn shook her head. "Nothin'."

"You know you can't lie to me, Fabray," Rachel said, unlocking the door of her condo and holding it open for Quinn. "I'll just get you drunk on Malibu & Coke and you'll spill your deepest, darkest secrets to me."

"Rachel Barbara Berry! Are you implying you would coerce me with the assistance of alcohol?"

"Or I could just tickle you into submission," Rachel said, poking Quinn in the side and causing her to jump.

"You wouldn't!" Quinn exclaimed in mock horror.

"Fourth of July, senior year."

"That was awful," Quinn said, laughing. "You almost drowned me!"

"If I recall, you started it with the splash war."

"Actually, Puck started it," Quinn stated, reminiscing on their last summer as carefree teenagers as she followed Rachel into her bedroom, dropping her bag at the side of the bed. "He threw us in the pool."

"That's right!" Rachel stripped off her tank top, tossing it into the laundry basket. "Sometimes I miss those days. That was a great summer.

Quinn looked up to respond in kind and nearly squeaked in surprise at the sight in front of her. Rachel's back was toward her (_Thank god,_ Quinn thought.), completely bare. She felt bad for ogling, but couldn't seem to tear her eyes away, especially when Rachel laced her fingers together and lifted them high above her head, stretching out her shoulders.

"Yeah, m-me too," Quinn managed to spit out.

"Five minutes," Rachel said, stepping into the bathroom. "You can keep me company if you want."

Quinn's felt her cheeks turn red, her hormonal brain instantly bringing to mind keeping Rachel company in a decidedly non-platonic way.

"Sure," she muttered as Rachel closed the door. As she waited for Rachel to enter the shower, she looked herself over in the full-length mirror attached to the door. Her skin was flush and her pupils blown; she could feel her nipples straining against the satiny material of her bra and the tension in her stomach hadn't dissipated in the slightest. Quinn ran her hand through her hair and sighed.

Her body had always reacted strongly to being around Rachel, even before she had even worked through what it meant, and significantly more so when they hadn't seen each other in awhile. They'd last seen each other for New Year's, nearly three months ago, and Quinn had been scheduled to come to Chicago the next week for spring break. It wasn't the longest they'd gone without seeing each other - par for the course, truth be told - but the time, coupled with the fact that they were both single at the same time for the first time since Quinn had fallen in love with Rachel, had her hormones operating on code red.

"You can come in," Rachel called, breaking Quinn from her thoughts.

Quinn stepped in the steamy room, at once pleased and horrified that the shower stall had nothing more than frosted glass obstructing her view of Rachel. "You still take the hottest showers known to man, I see," Quinn quipped, taking a seat on the vanity bench in the corner.

"It helps loosen up my muscles. It's unbelievably strenuous on that stage," Rachel stated. "I was even surprised by it."

"I could give you a massage tonight," Quinn blurted out, nearly smacking her own forehead as she realized the torture she'd be putting herself through again.

Rachel slid back the glass door just enough to stick her head out. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," Quinn replied, while her brain was screaming _you idiot_ at her.

"You are the best, Quinn Fabray. Though I feel like I should be the one giving you a massage, all things considered. Trade off?"

"Sure thing." Quinn smiled; torture or not, she wasn't going to pass up the opportunity to feel Rachel's hands on her.

They chatted about the show while Rachel finished showering, trying to remove all remnants of makeup from her skin.

"You know, by time this is over, you might just have a permanent green hue to your skin," Quinn teased.

"Not funny, Quinn," Rachel said, turning off the water. "Hand me my towels?"

Quinn slid the door open a crack and handed Rachel two fluffy bath towels, accidently catching a glimpse of smooth, tanned thigh. She watched as a tiny rivulet of water darted its way across said thigh, losing track of it as it ducked behind her knee. Her mouth went dry as she imagined tracing the trail of water back up with her tongue and she licked her own lips, drawing her bottom lip in between her teeth and biting down slightly.

"I'm gonna go get changed. My clothes have airplane funk on them."

"Okay," Rachel said, taking the proffered towels. Quinn turned for the bedroom, stripping and redressing in record time. By time Rachel walked in, one towel around her body and the other turbaned on top of her head, Quinn was buttoning and zipping her jeans. Quinn caught herself staring again, this time watching as water descended down Rachel's chest, disappearing into the valley between her breasts. She felt like she was in a movie, part of a cruel, cliché script where the main character had a super hot best friend but that's all they were: best friends.

She caught sight of a tiny patch of green paint in the concave of Rachel's left clavicle and stepped closer to wipe it away. "You have..." Quinn reached out, rubbing her thumb across the offending spot, effectively getting rid of the splotch.

Rachel looked up to Quinn, their eyes locking, and Quinn's hand seemed frozen where it was against Rachel's skin. "Thanks," she whispered quietly. "I never seem to get it all."

Quinn smiled, staying surprisingly calm despite the fact that her heart was thundering in her chest so hard that she was fairly certain her ribcage was rattling. Even still, she was unable to stop herself from dragging her thumb along the rest of Rachel's clavicle. They'd always been touchy-feely friends - to the point of Glee Club calling them _Brittana 2.0_ - so there was no way Rachel would think anything of it, she reasoned with herself.

Rachel's breath hitched slightly, something that would have been completely undetected by Quinn had she not been mere inches from her. Rachel's eyes were still trained on hers, like they were searching for answers to questions Quinn wasn't aware of, and Quinn had to avert her eyes to keep from letting herself turn a fantasy into reality.

Rachel reached out, brushing her fingers against Quinn's chin, gently urging her to look back. "Hey."

Quinn smiled, knowing that simple word was 'Rachel Berry speak' for _talk to me_. "I'm fine, Rach. I'm just processing it all," she said, feeling slightly ashamed that she was lying to Rachel.

"Do you want to just stay in tonight? We can order take out and watch horribly cliché romantic comedies. I won't even complain if you make me watch _Leap Year _again."

"It's a good movie!" Quinn protested, causing Rachel to laugh.

"You just have a crush on Amy Adams," Rachel teased. Quinn crossed her arms and pursed her lips, pouting, until Rachel apologized. Sort of. "I _guess_ it's an okay movie, but if you love it that much, it seriously calls your judgment of my performances into questioning."

Quinn cracked a smile, appreciating - not for the first time - Rachel's ability to unknowingly diffuse a situation. "Shut it, Berry," she said lightheartedly. "And put some clothes."

"There's my Quinn," Rachel replied, leaning up on her toes to kiss Quinn's cheek. "You should find something you want to eat, because I'm starving."

Quinn mock saluted and headed for the kitchen to find Rachel's take out binder. In true Rachel fashion, the binder lay atop the microwave, indexed by cuisine and subcategorized by distance from her apartment. Quinn chuckled and shook her head, knowing some habits would never be broken. She immediately flipped to the Italian section, finding several pizza places and decided on one based on the amount of green highlighting on the menu, Rachel's code for vegan options. When she gave Rachel's address and the guy taking the order asked, _The usual, Miss Berry?_, Quinn laughed.

"You eat out too much, Rach," Quinn called after she'd given her complete order and paid. She slipped her shoes off and stretched out on the couch, switching on Rachel's stereo as she waited for her.

"I'm too exhausted after shows!" Rachel said as she exited the bedroom dressed in an outfit similar to what she'd left the theatre in.

Quinn propped herself up on one elbow, scooting back to make room for Rachel. "Excuses," she said.

Rachel rolled her eyes, sliding on the couch next to Quinn. "Did you want a drink? I do actually have Malibu and Coke."

"Prepared for next week?"

"Of course." Rachel grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch and draped it over their legs.

"You shouldn't be drinking, anyway. Bad for your voice," Quinn said, running her fingers up the back of Rachel's neck and into her scalp, scratching lightly.

"I am quite aware of the effects of alcohol on your vocal cords, Quinn. However, I seem to remember a certain blonde missing her last midterm, claiming a family emergency, and flying cross-country to get me drunk after my boyfriend dumped me last year. Sound like anyone you know?"

"Nope," Quinn shook her head. "But she sounds like a keeper. Not many people would do that."

"Mmmm," Rachel half-moaned, half-hummed. "If she keeps it up, I'm going to have to keep her around as a personal head masseuse."

"Prelude to the full massage," Quinn said, continuing with the rhythmic motions, not missing the way Rachel pressed back into Quinn when she hit the extra sensitive spot just above the nape of her neck. It was pure agony but she figured she might as well get all she could out of it.

They laid mostly in silence as they waited, stereo playing softly in the background and Rachel's sighs and moans of approval filling the room.

"God, Quinn," Rachel husked as the pressure of Quinn's movements increased.

Quinn sucked in a breath, shifting to alleviate some of the building pressure between her thighs. She was acutely aware of the heat, the torturous ache reminding her it was going to be a very long three days. "Rach," she whispered as she slid her hand down the back of her neck and over her shoulder, long fingers tracing down her arm and resting over her wrist.

The moment - as most moments when they were alone - was more intimate than any Quinn had shared with Puck since they had started dating and it irritated her that Rachel was seemingly unaffected by them. The nature of their relationship had been called into question by nearly everyone that spent time with them and Rachel had always laughed it off, not once showing a hint of wanting it to be true. There had been many times that they'd been in similar moments and Quinn had been on the precipice of admitting her feelings to Rachel, only withholding for fear of driving the other girl away.

Rachel turned her head to look at Quinn and at that exact moment, the delivery driver buzzed the intercom; a proverbial glass of ice water tossed right in Quinn's face that brought the movie script feeling back in full force. As Rachel went to grab the food, Quinn moved to the kitchen to grab drinks and plates. She braced herself on the counter, taking long, deep breaths to calm herself. Rachel Berry would be the death of her before it was all said and done.

She carried the plates and drinks - Malibu and Coke for herself, gin and tonic for Rachel - out, stopping in the doorway to give herself a mental pep talk.

"Ready to eat?" Rachel asked, turning toward her and smiling.

"Absolutely."

They had eaten until they both felt like they'd explode, and then ate a little more. Conversation stayed light; Rachel filled Quinn in on a few funny stories from the past week that had been too long to text about and Quinn told Rachel about the surfing lesson she took a few days ago on a whim. By the end of the first movie, they were both significantly tipsy thanks to Rachel's decision to make a drinking game of it; they had to take a drink for every romantic comedy stereotype, which meant they pretty much just drank throughout the entire movie.

Rachel was propped up on her elbow, studying Quinn's face, and the attention made Quinn squirm. In the background, the Blu-Ray menu looped the same 30-second sample over and over, but neither of them moved to turn it off.

"You're pretty," Rachel said, smiling as placed a hand on Quinn's cheek. "You know that?"

Quinn blushed. "Thank you."

"Noah's stupid. She's not as pretty as you."

"You've never met her, Rach."

"She's not as pretty as you. Let's dance!" Rachel exclaimed, pulling Quinn up before she could protest.

Quinn laughed as Rachel bounded over to the receiver, switching from the movie to her iPod. The ADD that Rachel seemed to develop when she drank never failed to amuse Quinn.

"I love this song!" Rachel cried, turning the volume up as _Push It_ came on. "Remember when we did this at the assembly? Not you, but Glee at the time. I was there."

"Trust me, I remember," Quinn stated. It wasn't something she'd ever forget.

Rachel grabbed Quinn's hips, pulling them together so they were flush against one another. "This dance ain't for errbody," she whispered, lips brushing Quinn's ear. "Only the sexy people."

Quinn felt her skin heat up, a jolt of electricity coursing through her veins at the action that increased when Rachel starting grinding against her.

Rachel Berry was _absolutely_ going to be the death of her.

Quinn woke up half-naked and sweaty with a splitting headache. The L rumbled past and she groaned in protest at the feeling that wasn't unlike the earthquakes she experienced in LA. She untangled her limbs from Rachel's slowly and stumbled for the kitchen, not bothering to throw her shirt on over her sports bra.

She popped two aspirin and pulled a Gatorade from Rachel's refrigerator to swallow them, downing half of it in one drink. Recapping it, she filled two glasses with water, adding sugar and lime juice before heading back to the bedroom. When Rachel had first told Quinn of the hangover cure she was skeptical, but the morning after a particularly rough party at Puck's she became a believer.

"Quinn." Rachel mewled and stretched but didn't open her eyes. "Where'd you go?"

"Water. Gatorade." Quinn muttered, not wanting to allow her brain enough activity to formulate an actual sentence.

"That sounds incredible."

"Here," Quinn said, moving to Rachel's side of the bed to set down the bottle and one of the glasses. She placed two aspirin in Rachel's hand as well.

"God, you are amazing," Rachel muttered. "My mouth tastes like ass."

Quinn giggled as she slid back in on her side of the bed. "You can brush your teeth later. Just drink so we can go back to bed."

"Okay." Rachel grabbed the half-full Gatorade, downing the rest of it in one swig as well.

"What time do you have to be at the theatre?" Quinn asked, finishing her pseudo limeade and reaching across Rachel to place her empty glass on the nightstand.

"Late," Rachel murmured. "5 or 6."

"Oh thank god," Quinn said as she settled back into the pillows, slipping under the sheet.

"Right?" Rachel finished her drink and slid toward Quinn, intertwining their legs as her fingers splayed over Quinn's abdomen.

It was nearly two when Quinn woke up again and she felt infinitely better. She was surprised Rachel hadn't woken already, considering her high school sleep schedule, but she figured the girl was probably exhausted from the show and slept in when she got a chance. Her arm was still draped around Rachel, the smaller girl still pressed against her side. It felt good to wake up with Rachel in her arms; she just wished it meant more than it did.

She stared at the ceiling, thinking about her life: about Puck, about Rachel, about what she was going to do when she graduated college next year. She and Rachel had been on a rather consistent visiting schedule due to college breaks, and Quinn suddenly found herself wondering what she was going to do when real life kicked in and she wasn't afforded the luxury of spring break or three month long breaks in the summer. Before she could really consider it, Rachel stirred beside her.

"What are you thinking about?" Rachel asked, nuzzling Quinn's neck as she pressed closer.

"Nothing," Quinn said softly, turning to kiss the top of Rachel's head. "Go back to sleep."

"You're thinking too loud."

Quinn chuckled quietly. "You. School."

"Let's start with the more interesting of the two."

"I would pick school. But you'd know I was lying and they're kind of intertwined anyway."

"Quinn?"

"Hmmm?"

"You're channeling me," Rachel whispered, dragging her fingers over Quinn's ribs.

"I know. I know," Quinn admitted. "I graduate next year."

Rachel nodded and propped herself up on her elbow, looking down at Quinn. "I know. And I'm on a sabbatical so I'll actually be able to come to your graduation. It's one benefit to this break." Rachel smiled brightly, causing Quinn's heart to seize within her chest.

"But what about spring break? Summer break? When am I gonna see you when I don't have a set schedule anymore?" Quinn's eyes were trained on the ceiling, not able to look at Rachel. There were more words dancing on the tip of her tongue but she bit down, not wanting to let them escape.

"Quinn..." There was a certain rawness to Rachel's voice that Quinn couldn't identify and it scared her. Their relationship over the past few years had been mostly over the phone and in that time, Quinn had become familiar with the way Rachel's emotions played out in her words. But this? This was new; it was something she'd never heard before and it put her on edge.

Quinn sat up, scooting back until she was leaning against the headboard of Rachel's bed. Her head lolled back, hitting the wall with a dull thud as she rested it against the top of the headboard. Still focused on the same spot on the ceiling, she finally spoke again. "I'm in love with you." Quinn felt Rachel shift next to her and the quiet gasp wasn't quite inaudible, but she didn't turn to look. The admission she fought so hard to keep in was out there now and she felt as if a huge weight was lifted from her shoulders. "I've been in love with you for four years, Rachel. It's why Puck left me. There's not another girl. Not for him anyway. I just... I wasn't going to tell you. That's not why I came here. I never wanted to tell you. I mean, our dynamic sorta edges past the friend border anyway, and it's been hell for the past four years, but I didn't want it to change, you know? Rather have something than nothing and all that jazz, but just like I hated the way it felt to not be emotionally involved with Puck, I hate lying to you, Rach. I hate lying to you but I didn't want you to know the truth, either. Does that make sense? God I'm sorry, Rachel. I'm so sorry."

It felt like she was dying. Everyone talked about how your whole life flashed before your eyes when you died, and right now Quinn could see her and Rachel's entire friendship flashing before her. Every hand hold. Every touch. Every movie watched just a little too close. Shared hoodies. Late night spooning. Flirty touches. Massages. All of it was there and she _knew _Rachel was going over the same thing, analyzing it all. She could feel the tears stinging against the back of her eyes, the feeling growing stronger the longer the silences stretched on. Rachel hadn't responded at all and it left Quinn wishing she could time travel, just to go back 5 minutes.

"Rachel, please, say something. Anything," Quinn pleaded, finally chancing a look at Rachel when she got no response. Rachel's mouth hung slightly open and she didn't blink; her look was pure shock. Another painful minute passed.

"Alright, I'm gonna..." Quinn moved from the bed, fumbling to dress and get out of the apartment as quickly as possible. Rejection she could stand (maybe), but the complete silence? She couldn't take that. She pulled on her jeans and tossed a shirt over her head, but it wasn't until she pulled on her Converse that she let the tears fall. She wouldn't leave Chicago, she couldn't - at least not until she worked things out with Rachel - but the apartment was stifling and Quinn had to struggle to breathe.

"Quinn," Rachel said quietly just as she reached for the door. "Don't leave."

"I need to," Quinn replied, not turning around. "You need time to process and I can't be here for that. I'm sorry, Rachel. I really am. I tried so hard to keep it from you, but I just couldn't anymore. I'll go home if you want me to, just let me know. Good luck at your show tonight," she said as she walked out the door.

As soon as she was outside, she collapsed against the brick. She let her tears over take her for the moment, sobbing as she thought about what she'd just done. Rachel was her best friend - the only person she cared about not hurting _ever _- and she'd gone and screwed it up. Wiping her tears away furiously, she pushed off the building, intent on getting away and getting her thoughts straight. As she did, she caught a glimpse of the shirt she'd thrown on in haste; _of course_ it was Rachel's. She sighed, heading off to nowhere in particular.

The first text came after an hour; Quinn was surprised Rachel had managed to hold on that long.

_I thought you'd be back by now. We need to talk._

Quinn didn't respond and 30 minutes later, another came.

_Quinn. Please come back. I want to talk to you._

Quinn didn't respond that either. Another 15 minutes and her phone beeped again.

_Quinn, I'm worried. You don't have to come back if you don't want to. Just tell me you're okay._

Quinn hesitated, feeling bad for making Rachel worry, but she was too scared of Rachel's reaction to actually go back.

_I'm okay._

The reply was instant.

_Thank god. I have to leave for the theatre soon. Will you be back before then?_

_No_

_Quinn..._

Quinn smiled, practically hearing Rachel's whine in her head. She sighed, looking around the park as she contemplated her words. Rachel wouldn't take a flimsy excuse, even from her. The phone beeped again before she could reply.

_There's a ticket with your name on it at the box office, if you'd like to come. Even if you don't, I'd really like it if you'd go out with me tonight._

Quinn scanned the screen over and over, her heart pumping wildly at the last sentence. "Out?" she wondered out loud, blushing when the old woman passing by looked at her strangely. "Sorry."

Quinn was ushered into the theatre by the same young man that had shown her to Rachel's dressing room the night before. Evan, she thought his name was. When they arrived at her seat - the same one from the night before, Quinn noticed - he spoke again.

"Miss Berry said I could show you to her dressing room at intermission if you wanted," he said quietly. "But she said it was up to you."

Quinn smiled sadly, knowing Rachel was probably a mess backstage. She wanted to go back now, but she was still a little afraid of what Rachel had to say and it was too close to show time. Not only did she want to have all the time she needed available, but she didn't want to stress Rachel out any more before the curtains went up. "I'll let you know at intermission, okay?"

He nodded. "She'll be pleased that you showed up."

"Please don't tell her I'm here," Quinn requested.

"My lips are sealed."

Pulling out her phone to check it was on silent, Quinn sent a quick message, throwing in a little déjà vu from the night before.

_Kick some ass tonight, Berry. xx_

The show had gone spectacularly. Once Rachel had spotted Quinn in the crowd, she lit up the stage. Rachel was a fantastic actress and the shift in her demeanor was probably unnoticed by everyone else in the theatre, but Quinn was long accustomed to Rachel's idiosyncrasies; the way her back straightened and her voice projected just _that_ much more made Quinn smile.

At intermission she'd stayed in her seat. She had desperately wanted to see Rachel, but another hour wasn't going to kill her. As soon as the cast had taken their final bow, Quinn made her way to the door Evan was standing next to.

"Ready?"

Quinn shook her head in the negative but smiled as he opened the door. "I'm gonna go anyway."

"Good luck," he said with a smile.

She paused outside Rachel's dressing room, mentally preparing herself. She smoothed the non-existant wrinkles from Rachel's shirt and raised her hand to knock.

"Just a second," Rachel called from inside. After a brief pause, the door opened to reveal the shorter girl.

"Hi." The word was quiet, sticking in the back of her throat. Rachel had changed from her costume into a clingy black tank top and yoga pants, her hair up in a messy bun. She was still half green, and Quinn had never seen her look more beautiful. Their eyes remained locked until Quinn spoke again. "You're amazing," she whispered.

"Quinn." Rachel's voice was quiet, not unlike how it had sounded earlier in the afternoon before Quinn left. "I'm glad you came."

Quinn nodded. "Me too."

"I, uh, I brought you some clothes. In case you showed up." Rachel stepped back, letting Quinn into the small room. "I didn't know if you would want to go out in that."

"I stole your shirt."

Rachel smiled. "I stole yours," she said, gesturing toward the chair at the vanity. The shirt Quinn had been wearing the night before was draped over it, and it made Quinn smile.

"Rach," Quinn said, reaching out for Rachel's hand. "This doesn't..."

"Let's just wait, Quinn." Rachel squeezed Quinn's hand gently and moved to the chair to take off the rest of her makeup. "We'll talk at dinner, okay?"

"Okay."

The walk to dinner was silent. Rachel had decided on a small vegan café a few blocks from the theatre and Quinn went along without protest. She'd learned over the years that Rachel was a picky vegan and more often than not, the food she declared passable was better than anything non-vegan that Quinn had tried. Not that Quinn could really focus on eating, anyway, with how her stomach was tied up in knots.

"We're here," Rachel said, stopping in front of the doors. She reached out for Quinn's hands before walking in. "Before we go in, I just wanted to make sure we're clear on something."

"What's that?"

"Earlier I asked if you would go out with me after the show. I just wanted to make sure you knew what..."

"I know, Rach," Quinn interrupted. "I wasn't expecting anything."

"Quinn Fabray! If you don't start letting me talk, I _am _going to send you home." Rachel's tone was undercut by the small smile playing on her lips, but Quinn was quiet anyway.

"Sorry."

"As I was saying. I wanted you to make sure you knew what this was. Or at least what I want it to be."

"Okay," Quinn nodded.

Rachel stepped closer, dropping Quinn's hands and sliding one hand up to Quinn's neck and the other around her waist. "Quinn," she whispered, lips almost brushing her ear. "Would you go out on a date with me?"

This time it was Quinn's turn to be rendered speechless. "I... Rach..." she stuttered out.

"I love you," Rachel said, ghosting her lips along Quinn's jaw to the corner of her mouth. "I've loved you for a long time."

"Rachel," Quinn whimpered. It was torture to have her lips so close, even if she was dreaming, which surely she was. Rachel had just asked her out and said she was in love with her. Absolutely just a dream. She'd fallen asleep on the couch in Rachel's dressing room and any second Rachel would wake her up and pull her out of this.

"If you'd stayed earlier, or even come back, I could have told you this a lot sooner," she whispered; still close enough that her lips were brushing Quinn's with every movement. "I'm going to kiss you right now; I expect that would be okay?"

Quinn nodded slightly, turning her head the mere millimeters it took to press her lips against Rachel's. It was chaste, lips pressed gently against lips, but it was magic. Every horrible cliché in every romantic comedy she'd ever made Rachel watch? All came true. Fireworks, birds singing, everything else on mute, the whole world coming to a stop... it all happened. Rachel's lips moved against hers, parting as her soft tongue snaked out against Quinn's lips, the teasing movement requesting permission for entrance.

Quinn's tongue darted out, meeting Rachel's, and she moaned low in her throat. She'd dreamed about it so long that she never thought it would happen and now that it was happening, it was a million times better than her dreams. She slipped her hands into Rachel's back pockets, squeezing and pulling their hips closer together.

"Rach," Quinn breathed against her mouth, lips crashing into Rachel's again before she could finish. She didn't care how winded she was, she never wanted it to end.

"Hmmm?" Rachel had moved her lips from Quinn's to her jaw and throat and the vibrations of the sound against Quinn's skin made her breath hitch.

"We have leftovers at home."

Rachel chuckled, burying her face in Quinn's neck. "We do. Are you suggesting we skip our date?"

"I, uh..." Quinn felt her face flush with Rachel's implication. "I wouldn't object if our date just involved a lot more of this."

Rachel beamed, biting down lightly on Quinn's clavicle before pulling back and looking at her. "Then take me home."


End file.
